


The Tale of the Trousers

by Awriterwrites



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: AMAs, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Barebacking, Fluff and Smut, Harry and Louis are cute, M/M, Rimming, Said with Harry's deep voice and obscenely puckered lips, Smut, The "Gucci Suit", after the AMAs, well really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-24
Updated: 2015-11-24
Packaged: 2018-05-03 05:39:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5278772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Awriterwrites/pseuds/Awriterwrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>That suit.  That fucking Gucci suit.  Louis has wanted to peel it off Harry from the moment that he put it on.  Not because it was hideous or offensive to Louis, no...quite the opposite.  Because if anything makes Louis absolutely crazy it's Harry wearing stupidly expensive designer clothing that just doesn't look good on anyone else.  No one else but Harry.  His Harry.</p><p>What happened hours after the AMAs when Louis finally got Harry home in that suit?  More specifically, in those trousers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Tale of the Trousers

**Author's Note:**

> That suit! The way Louis looked at Harry in that suit! My imagination just ran away from me.

“Look at you.”

Louis’ voice came out barely above a whisper. The hoarse need clogging his throat, his mouth dry and the need to _move_ fucking palpable.

“Could say the same for you.” Harry replied, a silhouette in the doorway, his own voice calm and soothing.

The light from the hallway swirled around Harry’s long, lean frame, creating an almost otherworldly glow around him. Louis could see the fine hairs on his forearms illuminated from behind and the light cascaded over his hair like a soft waterfall. His face was dark in shadow but Louis didn’t need to see it to know that his eyes were wide and dark with arousal and his pink full lips were wet and slightly fuller just from being bitten in anticipation all night.

Harry started to take a step into the room, the scrape of his boot on the polished wood floor sounding like a lover’s sigh. “Don’t.” Louis called, not moving from his reclined position on the bed, the remnants of his clothing scattered around him and on the floor. “Let me look at you a minute more.”

Harry’s cheeks pulled up in a grin; Louis could see the way the movement pushed his ears up into his hairline and the slight toggle made a curl loosen from behind his ear, falling gracefully around his jawline. Christ he was beautiful. His broad shoulders flexed as he crossed his arms over his chest and leaned into the door jamb. Despite the dim light, Louis could see the dark contrast of his tattoos against his pale smooth skin. His torso curved into a slight C shape, his shoulder the only thing touching the solid wood of the door frame. Louis could see the slight ridge of his abdominal muscles fading into a well-defined V line, the shadows darker in the dips and ridges of the muscle and flesh.

The most striking thing about this image was the way those pants hung low around Harry’s hips, almost as if they themselves couldn’t decide if they wanted to be _on_ or _off_ him. Those ridiculous, almost ostentatious, designer pants that Harry just had to have.   Louis might have persuaded him a bit to go with the Gucci suit after seeing him in those damn floral Dolce pants for the Kimmel show, but that was neither here nor there.

The suit was lovely, the cut loose and slightly unstructured, the pattern decidedly feminine and definitely _Harry_.   But it was the pants that did it for Louis. The pants that hung just the right way on Harry’s narrow hips and clung to his tiny round arse like they were made for it. The pants that made Harry’s endlessly long legs look like willow tree branches swooping in the wind, with their looming creased flare and side pockets. Polished black heeled boots capped the ends of his legs, creating a very rock n’ roll look.

Louis was positively tongue tied by the figure in front of him.

He’d been speechless nearly all night. His eyes floating over to Harry all night. The red carpet a nightmare with Harry so close; looking so good. It was no wonder Louis even made it through without embarrassing himself _too_ much. The thing is, the fact that Harry was his sometimes left Louis feeling adrift; lost in the sea of emotion that came with the deeply ingrained love and desire he has, always has had, for the boy in front of him.

Back to the pants.

Louis knew that the crepe material was soft under inquisitive fingertips, but the heat from Harry’s skin beneath it was what gave the material life. Harry was always just so warm, so filled with heat that Louis found himself craving it, like the first long drink of fine whiskey; warm and molten, fiery and all encompassing. It was something that Louis himself couldn’t even begin to explain.   The way Harry looked right now, just a few feet away, Louis knew that his skin would be so hot to the touch and that the burn would radiate from underneath those blessed pants and scorch Louis’ skin.

“ _Harry_.” Louis said the only thing he could think of, because Harry filled his mind and crowded his senses. Seeing him standing in the doorway, wearing just those pants and his boots drove any other thought from his brain and Louis just couldn’t hold back anymore.

“Lou?” Harry questioned, wondering if he could come closer finally, after hours of not touching, not exploring, not doing what their bodies were made to do to one another.

Louis slid off the bed, their bed, his bare feet dropping to the floor with a soft thud. He was completely naked, having showered quickly as soon as they came in the door.   Award ceremonies are tedious, but Louis always feels that excitement thrumming under his skin, and with it comes a bit of anxiety over will they win the award they are nominated for and will they manage to give a good performance. Not to mention meeting other celebrities he both looks up to and loathes. All of which result in a bit of…perspiration. So he needed a shower.

Louis’ hair is still damp, falling over his forehead in a soft fringe and his skin feels taut from the hot water and almond body wash. His cock bobs between his legs, already nearly full just from seeing Harry in those goddamn pants. Not just now, here in their home, but all fucking night; first on the red carpet and then afterward when they stopped at an exclusive private party at Irving’s. He just had to put them back on. Partly because, Louis’ sure of it, he knew that they were slowly driving Louis crazy but also because he just liked them. Liked the way they made him feel. Liked the way they felt on his legs. He had paired them with a tight fitting black cashmere sweater for the after party, but the affect was still the same. Resulting in Louis’…present predicament.

Harry’s posture didn’t change, but Louis’ could see the slight hitch in his breath as he drew nearer. Louis felt a bit feline in the way he slunk across the floor and he couldn’t help the smirk that spread across his face. “Look beautiful, love.” He whispered against Harry’s shoulder once he reached him, careful not to let their bodies touch. He was right, Harry was hot; his body emanating that warm heat like he’d stored it from the summer months just to share it with Louis now, in the cold onset of winter.

“Thanks.” Harry’s voice was deep, like usual, but its timbre was even deeper, richer, like mahogany or dark roasted coffee.

Harry didn’t move from his spot, he was frozen as Louis reached out and dragged his fingertips across his chest. The only sign that he was affected was the way his nipples puffed up just a bit more from their natural already perky state. Louis breathed over Harry’s shoulder as he circled his boyfriend, knowing the itch to touch was getting under Harry’s skin, making his blood boil.

“All fucking night, Harry.” Louis said, his voice raspy with an edge of danger.

“Hm?” Harry hummed, letting his head roll back on his shoulders as Louis fit himself snugly up against his backside, his chest finally sliding against the expanse of Harry’s broad back. The affect was like feeling satin for the first time.

“You know what I’m talking about.”   Louis thought his boyfriend was the most endearing person on the planet, especially when he was teasing Louis like he was right now.

Harry crossed his left leg over in front of the other, the toe of his boot coming to rest at a 90 degree angle in front of his right leg. He was getting comfortable.

Louis huffed out a breath as he gently moved the bulk of Harry’s hair so that it rested over the opposite shoulder so he could gain better access to the long line of his neck. He placed one wet kiss to the juncture of his neck and shoulder, pressing his teeth to the tender skin, making Harry shiver. “You know what those fucking trousers were doing to me all night, Harold.” Louis hissed, placing a cool dry palm on each love handle, squeezing for emphasis.

“M’ afraid I don’t know what you’re on about.” Harry said simply, a shudder passing through his body as Louis’ lips and tongue started forming hot wet swirls along the back of his neck and shoulders. Louis let his hands slip into the front of Harry’s pants, the loose waistband just _begging_ to be shoved down, roughly, freeing Harry’s impressive length.

Small, purposeful fingers danced along the skin below Harry’s belly button, tickling at the sparse hairs that led down, down, down. Louis pressed his hard cock into the back seam of the offending trousers, rocking forward in small pulsing movements, holding Harry in place with firm hands over his hipbones, fingers pressing into the tender flesh alongside his cock. The soft scratch of the fabric against the head of his dick was that kind of pleasured pain that Louis wished he could bottle and sell. He began to suck more determinedly along Harry’s neck and under his ear, letting his breath fan over the wet skin; reveling in the reaction he was getting.

Harry’s breathing stuttered as his whole body started to sway with the controlled movement of Louis’ shallow thrusts at his backside. He finally uncrossed his arms and moved them behind him so he could cup Louis’ arse with large skilled hands, holding Louis even closer than before. “Didn’t know you liked them so much.” He said, a bit breathlessly, his own cock starting to push the expensive fabric of the trousers away from the rest of his body.

Louis decided not to answer, instead opting for sliding his hands up Harry’s torso, almost losing himself in the feeling of soft soft skin covering well cultivated muscles. His fingers landed at Harry’s nipples, earning him a quiet gasp as he began rolling each of them between his first finger and thumbs. Harry and his nipples. Louis loves that he knows his boy so well, has known him for so long, can read him like a well-loved book. He knows Harry loves to have his nipples played with; knows that the fastest way to get Harry begging for more is by pulling, pinching, biting, sucking those beautiful rose colored little nubs into arousal.

“Lou, _please_.” Harry finally moans, his resolve broken as Louis smiles into his neck. Harry’s neck and shoulder already have a map of fine red marks that will maybe bruise, but Louis doesn’t care. They have a few days off so no one will be the wiser.

“Please what, love?” Louis teases.

Harry turns himself in Louis’ loose embrace and smashes his mouth to Louis’. The kiss is wet and messy right from the start, all of the simmering need bubbling to the surface when Harry plunges his cotton candy pink tongue inside Louis’ mouth. Louis moans at the intrusion, tasting Harry for the first time in hours, eons, and it is so so _good_. Harry’s hands are in Louis’ hair, both big strong palms pressing to each side of Louis’ head and Louis feels himself melting.

This is what he wanted all night. He wanted to be kissing Harry, feeling their bodies slotted together like missing bookends. He wanted to get Harry off in those sinfully outrageous trousers from the minute the zipper rang out in the close air of their dressing room. Harry always looked good to Louis, whether he was wearing worn out track shorts or a stupidly overpriced and over hyped designer shirt (don’t get Louis started on the floral bolo tie obsession of late). But today, tonight…Harry just took Louis’ breath away.

Maybe it was because they were finally so close to coming out, to finally being able to be themselves, their true selves. Or maybe it was because Harry had grown so much in the past five years; not just physically, but emotionally. Harry had become such a strong and independent _man_ over the last few years that Louis felt his heart bursting with joy and pride whenever Harry felt confident enough to wear one of his latest discoveries, whether it be a pale pink blouse with a black flower brooch at the neck or the fucking Gucci suit he wore tonight…all of it was definitively Harry and it was good. So fucking _good_.

It was good because it showed how much Harry had grown in his confidence and his strength in not caring about what other people felt. It was good because he’d gone from a timid 16 year old who cried when he searched himself on the internet and saw the nasty things some of humankind were capable of saying about him to a fucking self-assured fashion icon standing before Louis today.

It was remarkable, really.

Harry had started to undo the flies of his pants while Louis was lost in thoughts of wonder regarding Harry. Louis snapped to and swatted Harry’s hand away, because that just wouldn’t do, breaking the string of filthy kisses that were really more a swap of saliva and erotic presses of teeth to lips.

“Want you to fuck me wearing these pants, Haz.”

Harry’s mouth stalled over Louis’ open mouth when he heard Louis’ request. Louis’ dug his fingernails into the space just below Harry’s shoulder blades while Harry contemplated his next move.

“But Lou…they’re _Gucci_.” Harry leaned back so he could look Louis in the eyes, his lips, oh _Christ_ , his lips were so _wet_.

Louis rolled his eyes. He knows they are fucking Gucci. He had to will his dick to behave when Harry announced to the world and that interviewer that he was wearing a “Gucci suit” with those plush pink lips pursed in such a way Louis couldn’t _not_ imagine them wrapped around his cock. Fucking Gucci.

“I’m well aware, Harold. We’ll have them dry cleaned.” He said tartly, already pushing Harry backwards into the room.

“I…um…” Harry stuttered as Louis’ tongue delved into the hot confines of his mouth. Breaking the kiss he said, “I…don’t think you can just dry clean Gucci.”

Louis scoffed as he rummaged through the bedside table for supplies. “Of course you dry clean Gucci. What are you supposed to do, walk around in bubble wrap so you don’t get the shit dirty?”

Harry let out a sigh, ending with a chuckle. “S’pose.”

“That’s right, love. No worries. Now, do you want to open me up or shall I?”

Harry plastered himself to Louis’ back instantly. “Me.” He growled possessively, the change in atmosphere sharp as Louis felt Harry pushing him up to the bed.

Louis giggled and folded himself in half in the center of the mattress, his arse presented to Harry just inches from his face. Louis heard Harry curse under his breath as the lid of the lube snapped open and landed next to Louis on the bed. Harry pulled one knee up to the bed next to Louis’ hip while his other foot was planted firmly on the ground. He placed one large palm in the middle of Louis’ back, pushing his upper body flush with the mattress, while the other hand snaked between his cheeks from behind.

Louis felt a slippery cool finger rounding his hole and it felt… _amazing_. After watching Harry talk to other people all night, seeing him in his element, Louis had felt near combustion. Thankfully they were sat next to each other all night and even made sure they could sing next to each other during their performance, but it wasn’t enough. It’s never enough with Harry. The only time Louis ever feels like he has enough Harry is when Harry is buried inside him. As Harry pushes his thick middle finger in past the first knuckle, Louis sighs in pleasure at the first feeling of relief he’s had all night.

“Alright?” Harry’s voice floated down to Louis like marshmallows on a cloud.

Louis nodded and grinned like an idiot.   “Yes. God. _Yes_.”

Harry slumped forward and started to mouth at the back of Louis’ hip, his finger fully immersed and swirling inside experimentally. “Feel so good, Lou. Always, but _god_ …tonight…”

Louis knew the feeling. There was something special about tonight.

Harry pulled his finger out, the slurp of slick lubricant filling the room alongside Louis’ slightly more labored breathing. The loss was short term, though, because soon after Louis felt the slight burn of two fingers pressing inside him. He groaned and pushed back against Harry, wanting more, always more.

“Slow down, love. Don’t want to hurt you.” Harry cooed, slowly pushing in and out, his fingers gentle and so soft inside.

“Won’t…h-hurt me. Fuck. _Harry_.” Louis just wanted more. Needed more.

Harry slid away from Louis’ body then, but kept his fingers scissoring inside of Louis’ tight heat. Louis was about to protest, his body cold at the loss of Harry’s never-ending warmth, but the words fell to pieces in his brain when he felt Harry’s breath at his hole.

Harry always knew what Louis needed, what he wanted, before Louis even knew. Sometimes when Louis was restless on a day off, Harry knew to make Louis a cup of tea and give him a back massage to calm him down. Or other times, Harry knew when he just needed to give Louis space, letting him be alone in the house to blow off steam with mindless video games. Sometimes, it was just a matter of knowing what Louis’ body needed in order to get out of its own way; in order for Louis to get out of his own head.

“ _Christ_.” Louis muttered into the smooth duvet as Harry tongue circled his rim. He pushed back against the warmth; Harry’s mouth no exception to the endless internal sunshine he possessed. Harry hummed and Louis felt precome trickle from his hard cock, knowing it was staining the expensive duvet Liam had given them for Christmas last year. Harry decided that was a good time to add his tongue as well as a third finger alongside the two fingers currently fucking Louis open.

Louis whimpered in time with Harry’s hand and tongue and wished more than anything he could see Harry’s face. Harry always looked otherworldly when he ate Louis’ out. Louis just knew Harry’s cheeks were scarlet and shiny with spit and that his eyes were shimmering with want. He could feel the shadow of whiskers bristling against the insides of his cheeks and upper thighs and _holy_ fuck if that didn’t make Louis want to shout.

“Harry. M’ done. Come on. Jesus Christ.” Louis babbled, needing Harry inside him now, now, now.

Harry laughed from between the cleft of Louis’ arse, making Louis that much hotter and pissed. Fucking Harry and the fucking Gucci pants. Louis needed to be fucked. And now.

Harry pulled his fingers out but left his tongue to take Louis apart slow slick glide by glide. Harry’s hands were firm on Louis’ hips, holding him in place so no amount of wriggling would get him free. Louis just decided to let Harry have his way. If he came like this Harry would just have to work harder to get him going again. That seemed like a fair deal.

Harry knew what Louis was up to. Again, the benefit of having sex with the same person for five long years was knowing what was going on inside their beautiful brain during the most intimate of moments. He released Louis with a slow drag of fingers and a wet kiss to his puckered and very fucked open and ready hole.

Just as Harry was crawling up Louis’ body, Louis bucked up backwards, unsettling Harry so he flopped alongside of him on the mattress, his feet still touching the floor. “Wha…” Harry was surprised, knowing that usually Louis was docile and pliant after a bit of fingering and rimming open.

“Not so fast Harreh.” Louis smirked, standing alongside the bed, ignoring the wet lube and spit dribbling down his inner thighs.

Harry looked up at him with wide doe eyes. Honestly, he was so cute. Louis was a lucky man. And sexy. With an amazing cock.

Louis pulled Harry up with both hands in his and dragged him across the room to the upholstered chair in the corner. Louis had thought it was ridiculous when Harry insisted they have a chair and ottoman in their bedroom because, really?   Who sits in a bedroom when you can _lie_ down? Seriously. But they’ve made use of this chair before, and not just as a place to throw their dirty clothes on when they are too lazy to toss them in the hamper (although Louis did use it in that manner more often than not). Louis pushed Harry down into the chair, Harry landing with a soft “oomph”.

“Lou?” Harry squeaked, his face still all messy and his hair equally messy, some strands sticking to his damp cheeks and forehead.

Louis dropped to his knees between Harry’s split legs, wincing a little at his full cock slapping his stomach. He looked up at Harry through his eyelashes and bit his lip. After a small twitch, Harry lifted his hand to brush through Louis’ hair, the action reverent and soft. “Love you.” He said simply, trying to kill Louis slowly but surely.

Louis smiled and leaned into Harry’s touch, “Love you too.”

Enough of that. With nimble fingers he undid Harry’s fly and opened the wide flaps of the soft material to show Harry’s pale pink briefs beneath. Louis shook his head and grinned. Only Harry would find topman briefs in pale pastel pink. Harry smirked, the right side of his mouth tilting up, his dimple deepening in his flushed cheek.

“Only you, Harold.” Was Louis’ only reply as he pulled the briefs down under Harry’s flushed leaking dick.

Harry groaned and canted his hips upward, expecting Louis to pull his trousers and pants down. Louis had other plans. Louis wriggled the material down just enough for Harry’s cock to stand at attention, the bunched material scrunched under his very full balls. “Loooouu.” Harry whined.

Louis’ answer was a lick to the underside of Harry’s dick and a lascivious smile. He stood up, hands resting on Harry’s thighs so he could kiss Harry full on the mouth. A soft slide of their tongues together had Harry resting back on the chair. Louis’ tongue swirled inside Harry’s mouth with finesse as he soothed his boyfriend’s need to move. “I’ve got you.” He murmured against the side of Harry’s mouth, inhaling the smell of Harry’s aftershave mixed with the unique scent of their pomegranate lube and sweat. Probably sweat from Louis’ ass, but oh well.

Then, Louis turned around. Harry gasped because finally, finally, his brain caught up with his dick and he realized what Louis intended to do. And that was….oh! Louis reached behind himself and held Harry’s full cock still while he lined himself up. He dropped his head so he could see the tips of Harry’s shiny black boots and the flared legs of those _fucking_ pants. He groaned as he fed Harry’s dick into his already clenching hole. Harry’s hands flew up to Louis’ hips and helped guide Louis down. Harry moaned as Louis slid down, down, down, grunting as he went. Louis’ small hands gripped the arms of the plush chair as his body adjusted. Harry panted small hot puffs of air between Louis’ shoulder blades.

Louis felt so full and so incredibly peaceful at long last. It was like the entire night had been leading up to this and only this. Louis’ entire body was made up of a million tiny springs, ready to coil and he couldn’t find any measure of peace until this moment, the moment when Harry filled him up. Filled him up in the way only Harry could.

“ _Louis_. Oh my _god_.” Harry’s voice was raspy and deep, scratching at that basal part inside Louis that made him want, _need_ to be fucked.

Louis swiveled his hips minutely; the pleasure shooting up his spine, the discomfort of having Harry’s huge cock inside him subsiding second by second. “Feels so good, Haz.” He whimpered. Because it did. Felt like nothing else in this world.

Harry’s hips nudged up, just the smallest of movement, as if to ask Louis if it was ok. Louis looked over his shoulder and what he saw took his breath away. There was his boy, his Harry, looking completely overwhelmed with lust and desire and it was for him. All for him. It always had been and it always will. That was exactly the way Louis wanted it.

“V’ got you.” Louis murmured, moving Harry’s hands to the sides of the chair, where he placed his palms atop them, his smaller fingers fitting between Harry’s longer thicker ones. They tangled their digits together; years of practice making the act feel like coming home.

Harry threw his head back on the chair, his long curly locks fanning out and down the back. Louis adjusted Harry’s legs a bit so that he could widen his stance, still keeping Harry tucked deep inside of him. The small change in movement made the head of Harry’s cock bump against Louis’ spot and that was…mind numbing. Louis shouted out and aimed again, slowly dragging himself up and down, backward and forward until he found it again and then began to fuck himself on Harry’s cock in earnest.

Harry let out these pretty little moans as Louis found a rhythm that made his head spin. His cock bobbed between his legs in time with his backward thrusts and he felt so powerful. So _alive_. He loved taking control when he and Harry had sex. But this…this was different because the slow burn to have Harry inside him had been building all night, all day. And Harry. Well, Harry was trapped underneath and behind Louis and it was hot. Fucking _hot_.

Harry wriggled his fingers out from underneath Louis’ firm grasp and began squeezing Louis’ hips, not quite guiding him, but not just letting him bounce around without purpose. He kept Louis at the same angle, knowing it was bringing Louis closer to the edge, recognizing the wanton noises that were spilling from Louis’ mouth as he came closer and closer to coming. The white explosions behind Louis’ eyes were rapidly coalescing into one bright light, the flower petals and leaves from the print on Harry’s suit taking shape in Louis’ mind as he felt his body burn from the inside out.

“Come on Lou. Let me hear you. Love hearing you come.” Harry breathed out over Louis’ back, his voice choppy as he held back his own release.

“Fuck. _Harry_.” Louis moaned, bouncing with increased fervor as he chased his orgasm.

Harry finally took control, knowing Louis needed it, knowing Louis needed _him_. He began guiding Louis up and down, thrusting his hips up so that his cock head jabbed relentlessly at Louis’ prostate. Louis began moaning even louder, these loud, tortured “ahahahah’s” filling the room, painting the walls with his fierce desire for Harry.

Harry bit his lip, trying so hard to hold back his own release; he could feel it hurtling forward. How could he not with Louis’ hot wet insides clamped around him like a fist, filling his blood with such heat, such need. He was just about to bring one of his hands around to jerk Louis off, make him come with a few skillful twists and glides of the palm when Louis was suddenly coming. Forcefully, shouting up to the ceiling, yelling out Harry’s name until his voice gave out and all that was left were these hoarse silent screams accompanying the thick ropes of come that spilled over his own chest and down Harry’s precious Gucci trousers.

Louis was fully seated on Harry’s dick, squeezing around Harry almost painfully when Harry pumped up just one more time, filling Louis with heavy hot come, all of it pulsing inside Louis’ velvety body, coating it like icing over a cake. Louis fought to catch his breath, his entire body working in concert to come back down. He must have been rotating his hips still because with a grumbled hiss Harry pulled him off of his lap with a desperate, “Too much. Too _much_.”

In one smooth movement, Harry gathered Louis up in his arms and stumbled over to the bed, his pants still on and dick hanging over his pants and trousers, flapping around like a garden hose. Louis would have laughed at him, made merciless fun of him, if it weren’t for the incredibly subdued post orgasmic haze that he was drowning in at the moment. Harry lay Louis on the bed like a child and slowly covered him up with the rumpled, and yes, recently come stained duvet. He kissed Louis’ forehead and told him he’d be right back.

In the silhouette of the light coming through the open door, Louis could see Harry’s back rippling as he kicked off his boots and slipped his underwear and pants down his thin muscled legs. He heard him make a short strangled noise as his fingers skimmed the fine fabric of the _Gucci trousers_ , undoubtedly feeling Louis’ cooling come soaking into the crepe fabric. It was followed by a high pitched laugh, just one bark, and it made Louis smile.

Harry was his boy. And it was ridiculous how much he loved him. How much they loved _each other_. Harry made Louis want to do things he never imagined. Made Louis a better man. And for that Louis was forever grateful. With a happy little sigh Louis could feel his eyes closing, slumber shrouding him like a warm thick shadow. As he drifted off to sleep he felt the cool sheets around him, the sheets that smelled like him and Harry and home and he felt warm, sated and contented. In his mind he could see Harry surrounded by white and cream silk, black flowers made with artful strokes of ink and genius swirling around him in magical plumes of whimsy. It made him feel the way he always did with Harry. Happy. Happy and free.

****

“Lou... Lou...”   Louis heard a voice calling him from under a thousand blankets, down a dark tunnel and through about 753 wormholes.

What the fuck was so important? His brain groused at him as he fought to open an eye. Just one eye. That’s all this fucker was getting from him this morning.

“ _Louis_.” The sound was closer. Impatient. Louder.

There was a wad of cottony hell in Louis’ mouth. He just needed a glass of water. What time was it even? Open an eye, his brain said. His body revolted. The bed was warm. Sleep is good. No…he groaned out loud.

“Louis…” He felt warm wet lips on his neck. Now that was nice. That was something he could wake up to. His cock gave a twitch.

His cock.

_What the fuck._

Louis sat up with a start, bumping noses with Harry, who was kissing his way up Louis’ neck, always a sure fire way to wake him. “Fuck, Lou!” Harry complained, rubbing his assaulted nose.

Louis couldn’t focus on his injured nose right now, or Harry’s for that matter. He was lying in a pool of cold wet. That’s the only way to describe it. Under his arse and all over his half hard cock was a sticky abundance of cold wet…liquid?

Oh, Jesus. This reminded Louis of that movie. The gangster one with Marlon Brando. What was it? Right. The Godfather. Holy shit, was there a severed horse head under his blanket? Louis let out a terrified squeak, his pulse racing and his legs itching to jump up. But he was scared of what he might find.

As Louis was (comically) trying to figure out what was happening, Harry took note of the crazed look in his eyes and the harsh breaths streaming from his boyfriend’s mouth. “Lou? What is it?” He asked, nose forgotten, lost between laughing at Louis and scooping him up in his arms to calm him.

“I…uh…” Louis seemed to be calming down. He slipped one white knuckled hand under the blanket and traced through the liquid on his tummy. Holy shit. Not blood, he noticed as he brought his hand up to his face. He didn’t have his contacts on so he couldn’t quite see, but the liquid on his hand wasn’t red it was more...clear? And it smelled…smelled like?

“Louis, is that _come_? Did you…did you have a _wet dream_?” Harry gasped incredulously, eyes wide as he looked at his boyfriend’s astonished face.

Louis stammered, “I…uh…um. I…I don’t know?” He was confused. He hadn’t had a wet dream in years. Probably not since Xfactor. Not since he was a teenager anyway. He always had Harry. And his hand when Harry was away. Fueled by images of Harry, but still.

Harry slowly peeled the covers back, giving Louis an encouraging nod. Once the blankets were down to Louis’ knees they both looked over Louis’ quickly softening cock and his golden skin. There was definitely copious amounts of a pearly white liquid splattered over Louis tummy and hips. From the looks of it, it had been quite a load, too. The sheet below Louis was soaked in one amoebic patch, making Louis look and feel very uncomfortable. It smelled like sex. Like come, in particular. Louis’ come.

“I…” Louis was slowly coming out of his sleepy stupor.

“S’ no big deal Lou. Happens to all of us.” Harry mused, hiding a smile in his shoulder.

Louis could feel his confusion turning to a quiet outrage. “Yeah, but…not me? I mean. This is just so weird. I…”

“Eh, don’t worry about it love. We’ll just clean up before we leave.” Harry replied, giving Louis a quick peck to the temple and a squeeze of the hip.

Louis shook his head and started thinking about a nice warm shower. Yes. Definitely a shower. But, Harry said ‘before we leave’. “Haz. Wait. Before we go where?”

Harry turned around at their closet. He looked amused. “What do you mean where, Lou? It’s the AMAs today.”

Louis gawked at Harry, one leg on the floor. “Wha…what?”

Harry giggled. “The AMAs…” His normally slow deep voice held an extra-long drawl, as if to clearly enunciate so Louis could catch up.

Louis blinked a few times. The AMAs? If today is the AMAs, then what… What was last night?

Like a wave hurtling toward a dry sandy beach, Louis suddenly felt a deluge of understanding overtake his senses. Oh. Fuck. That means…

But it had seemed so _real_.

Harry twirled around from the closet, facing Louis who was still standing next to the bed. He held two hangers in his hand, each with an impeccable, if not outlandish suit. “So which one should I go with?” He hummed, looking over each ensemble. “The Gucci or the Laurent?”

Louis licked his lips and stared at Harry’s beautiful, beautiful, sexy face. “The Gucci. Definitely the Gucci.”

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked it! Leave a note to let me know what you thought. Thanks for reading.


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